


Respite

by StarTravel



Series: Defiance Through Tenderness [16]
Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Fluff and Humor, Introspection, Literary Discussion, Mild Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-10-01 13:42:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17245274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarTravel/pseuds/StarTravel
Summary: As Julian starts to emotionally recover, he and Garak return to a familiar game Garak’s not sure they should be playing.





	Respite

Garak spends the morning tensely mocking Julian over replicated tea and scones, asking him as many measured but still embarrassing questions he can think of. Julian rolls his eyes and bites his lip and stomps into the bathroom several times, but eventually an answer always follows. Garak doesn’t let himself relax until Julian rolls his eyes and tells him a lie, obvious and ridiculous but not a forced truth that makes them unsafe. Garak smirks slowly, gaze sliding down across Julian’s shoulders. “Now we can actually talk about something.”

 “You know, we never did finish our discussion on _Emma.”_ Julian’s voice is a barely above a whisper, soft and a bit tremulous, as though he’s testing out being himself again. Garak supposes there’s some truth in that, Julian sitting up and back on his heels, grin wide but a little crooked. His smile is still hesitant, but there’s a warmth and affection there Julian’s no longer trying to hide, a sparkle in his eye that was once Garak’s salvation.

 Julian leans forward on his right ankle, left leg bending so his knee presses against the edge of his comforter. Garak watches the way his warm golden skin and the light smattering of dark hair of his legs practically glows against the white of the silk. Garak reaches his right hand out and lets it hover of Julian’s thigh. “Didn’t we, my dear? I thought I was quite insightful in my criticisms of Frank Churchill and Jane Fairfax.”

 “I believe you called him foolish and selfish and said that she was weak with sentiment.” Julian’s voice is crisp and airy, a smirk dancing on his lips and eyes dancing with amusement and fondness. Julian leans forward so he’s kneeling next to Garak, thigh bumping purposefully into Garak’s right hand. Garak doesn’t move his hand away, letting it rest on Julian’s knee and savoring the warm skin there. It’s a dangerous indulgence to allow himself, but then so is Julian.

 “I don’t remember you disagreeing.” Garak throws out in the same tone as Julian, eye ridges shifting back and forth in a careful dance. Julian grins at his defeat, warmer and more sure than it was at the start now that they’re back in their old familiar rhythms.

“Maybe not, but you also said you _liked_ Emma and you never told me why, you just told me all the things you didn’t like about it.” There’s a touch of delight to each of his words, gaze a challenge and a victory all at once. It is rare, Garak supposes, that he yields enough to admit to liking one of Julian’s terrible Federation classics.

 Though he very much doubts that Julian will enjoy the reason for why Garak liked it. He smirks, slow and wide, hand clamping down a bit more tightly on the smooth skin and sharp bone of Julian’s knee. “Isn’t that obvious, my dear? She reminds me of you.”

 Julian’s eyes widen, mouth hanging open slightly in affront Garak’s sure is at least partially put upon. Julian crosses his arms as he presses his lips into a thin line, tilting his head to the right almost in time with Garak. “What? How?”

 “Young and still naive for her age, melodramatic, having far too many friends considering she can’t read a room.” Garak lists off, holding up one finger for each of his points. He can’t quite stop himself from smiling at the way Julian rolls his eyes at his last point, his expression sliding down into a pout. Garak leans in, voice a lilting whisper as he presses his mouth against Julian’s ear. ”And an arguably well-intentioned pest who can’t handle when her meddling fails her.”

 “I’m not that young.” Julian makes as his only argument, and Garak is reminded of the young man who came to him complaining of his birthday two years ago. Julian _is_ older now than he was then, eyes opened by the poverty and loss of life and war Deep Space 9 has given him. But there are other ways, many ways in which he is still as boyish as when Garak first met him, and he doesn’t think those things will ever change. Julian lets out a low groan as he shifts forward. “Maybe Emma wasn’t the best choice of topic though. We’re on Risa, we should read Risan literature.”

 Garak smirks a bit as he pulls back, eyes wide as he stares at Julian. Now is the moment to push him away, just enough so Julian is at the right arm’s length. Distance allows concealment, and a mocking rejection is kinder than a genuine one for men like them. “Julian, are you suggesting we discuss something as tawdry as _erotic_ poetry?”

 “Garak! Not all of Risa’s poetry is erotic. A great deal of it is merely sensual.” Julian’s voice is defensive, a light flush spreading up his neck and across his cheeks. But he doesn’t move away like he used to when Garak teased him in the past, doesn’t start rambling and his gaze doesn’t flicker around the room nervously as though he can’t decide rather to pounce or to run.

 Instead Julian merely leans in and tilts his head down so he can look up at Garak through his lashes. Garak swallows and tries to think of codes and measurements and not the shape of Julian’s lips. “Maybe we can start with something from Trill and work our way up.”

 “Right, of course.” Julian answers him just a little too quickly, sliding back on the bed so they’re no longer touching. Garak can see the disappointment and doubt in the furrow of Julian’s brow and the way he curls his lip, his hands digging into the silk of the comforter. Julian turns to him with a small, painfully hopeful smile. “The tea should be wearing off, maybe we could go for a walk on the beach again or visit the salons. There are some lovely saunas that I think when you would appreciate.”

 “No.” Garak answers coolly and quickly, mind already flooding with all the ways someone could take them out there. Even with his own Cardassian strength and Julian’s enhanced reflexes, a good assassin would be able to use the steam and relaxed atmosphere to his advantage. Garak might make it out alive but Julian, newfound awareness of the world or not, wouldn’t. Garak isn’t going to take that risk unless he has to.

Julian raises an eyebrow, gaze taking on a worried tinge as he slides his hand over Garak’s own on the bed. He squeezes it lightly, grin reassuring and warm as he looks up at him. “Garak, you haven’t even tried them yet-“

 “It’s the enclosed space with several strangers aspect I’m objecting to, not the heat.” Garak’s voice is so low that it’s almost a whisper, shifting his hand underneath Julian’s until their fingers are intertwined.“Even if they are open and spacious, we have enough enemies to not around in towels without anything to protect ourselves with.”

 “You don’t have to wear just a towel you know, though I can’t say I’d mind.” Julian drawls in as he wiggles his eyebrows, but there’s a concerned understanding in his gaze that belies the way his words twist in the air. Julian squeezes his hand back, voice light and airy in a way his expression is not, smile almost painfully tender. “But that’s fine, we can spend today on the beach again if you want.”

 “Yes, where you’ll end up drinking God knows what without checking this time.” Garak snaps before he can stop himself, voice coming out more clipped than he intended. Julian glances down at their entwined hands, flush coming back. Somehow it’s less of pleasant this time. “I’m sorry my dear, I’m not cut out for this.”

 “Vacation?” Julian quips as he glances up, the embarrassment fading from his gaze as a hint of mirth replaces it.

 “Relaxation. I’m too aware of everything that could go wrong if we leave this hotel room now that I don’t have … other distractions.” Garak shifts his eye ridges on his last word, just a fraction, but he knows his meaning comes across from the way Julian’s shoulders tense ever so slightly. They’re not entirely out of the woods yet, but Garak can see the world outside of all of the trees Julian’s planted over the past few months. And that world has never been anything but risky for both of them.

And lying on the bed here with Julian is a risk Garak should have - used to have - enough sense not to take. Garak could ruin Julian’s life so easily, shatter him and all his beautiful ideals without lifting a finger if he wanted to. And Julian could destroy him in ways he thinks the other doesn’t even understand. “Well, we could spend all day in bed taking turns reading Risan poetry and giving each other massages.”

 Julian’s voice comes out playfully acerbic, but there’s a genuine eagerness at the edge of it, a tenderness in the way he gazes at Garak. Garak swallows and reminds himself of all the ways affection and sentiment can destroy a man, of the people he’s seen brought low by those weaknesses, of Tain.

  Then he exhales and slides a hand to Julian’s cheek. “I think it’s your turn to lie down, my dear.”

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know if anything else needs to be tagged!
> 
> Questions? Comments? :D


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